


(You Are My) New Dream

by KnightAniNaberrie



Category: Lucifer (TV), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Angels are palace guards, Chloe is Rapunzel, Dan is Maximus, Ella is like delayed entry Pascal, F/M, Lucifer is Flynn, Lucifer with a flavoring of Tangled, Parallels were drawn, more tags to be added when I am less tired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightAniNaberrie/pseuds/KnightAniNaberrie
Summary: Princess Chloe Decker, Miracle child, was stolen away from her family and her kingdom 18 years ago. She takes the long way around to who she is and where she belongs, but a certain wanted fugitive makes the journey a heck of a lot nicer.





	1. When Will My Life Begin?

**Author's Note:**

> Girls Night this week was watching Tangled on my broke DVD player (will only play black and white) and this idea wormed it’s way in amidst the chaos.

Chloe was not the adventurous sort.

She had dreams, on occasion, of soaring through the skies, swimming through dark foreboding caves, or even just sifting her toes through the dirt to discover what the grass felt like. But that’s all they were, silly dreams that came and went, night and day. Her life was a structured one, a safe one, exactly what her Father wanted for his Little Miracle.

Her father’s name was Marcus, a simple fact she wouldn’t have known had she not grown curious enough to ask a few years back. He called her Chloe, afterall, because people had names and not just titles like Father or Daughter or King. But she had not heard before what his was, not had occasion due to their strict no guests policy.

Such a policy may seem outrageous to others, but Chloe could understand where her Father was coming from. For she was never your average child, and people had tried to take advantage of her gifts and naivety in the past, he had told her, and she believed him with all her heart. He wanted what was best for her, as any good parent would, and she had no reason to question his judgement.

Or at least, that’s what she told herself at times like this.

Sprawled across her bed, she stared blankly at her ceiling, painted all the colors of the rainbow, stars cataloged, movements tracked. Flowers and birds and the occasional small fluffy creature were peppered in the minimal available space, and there was an odd scratching sound from outside her window that surely meant some animal seeking food or shelter, but today that failed to hold her attention. Her eyes drifted back once again to the unusual stars, the ones she had been unable to catalog, that only made an appearance once a year on her birthday, which, lo and behold, it was soon to be again.

Almost. She almost asked her Father if they could go see the stars when they rose. The lingering sense of wrongness had almost won out enough for her to begin a useless fight. Chloe had requested before that they visit the special stars, the stars she felt somehow just had to be for her. And her father had explained, calmly though with a growing sense of irritation each year, that it was not safe for her to venture out into the stars, that the people who wished to harm her would be too near, and possibly to many for him to fend off.

The scratching came again, this time louder, seemingly closer, and with more of a thunking noise accompanying it.

Chloe knew her Father meant well, but in all honesty, she was fairly certain she could handle herself.

And with that thought, the thunking and scratching reached its climax as the dark shadow of a man, too tall and lean to be her Father, swung over the windowsill and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

For a moment, all seemed frozen, but it was not long before instinct set in. In one swift motion, Chloe sprang from the bed, grabbed the frying pan she’d been toying with earlier in the day, and with a small shriek of power (yeah, definitely power, not at all surprise or terror or anything like that) slammed it into the head of the intruder.

The thud of his unconscious body hitting the ground was much louder than the well maneuvered landing that came before.

Perhaps Chloe had a little adventure in her.


	2. Frying Pans Are Fun

A dull throbbing poking at the back of Lucifer’s head slowly pulled him back to consciousness, followed by something else poking as well. It was here and there, hard and cold. Jabbing gently at his hair, his shoulders. He had no intention of letting whoever it was know he was awake so soon, but couldn’t stop the flinch when the probing object made it to his back.

There was a gasp, and a slight breeze as the pokey part of the object was twisted away and replaced with a much flatter surface.

“Don’t move.” A feminine voice said, stern but with just a hint of nerves. “I have a frying pan and I won’t hesitate to smack you again.”

Chuckling, he swiftly got to his feet, utterly unphased by the attempted threat. “What makes you believe I wouldn’t be into that?”

The voice seemed displeased, and he got poked once again with what he now knew to be a mere cooking utensil (if, admittedly, a fairly effective one).

If Lucifer was being honest with himself, he should have expected something like this to happen. Rarely do people build themselves a tower in the middle of nowhere and then welcome company, but his hiding places had been limited, what with Dan the Douche hot on his trail. Albeit the man could hardly find the ketchup if it was directly in front of his face, he was persistent, and it seemed best to not take the chance of him stumbling upon whatever bush Lucifer may have chosen to hole up in.

“Look, I climbed your tower as a mere means to avoid someone rather unpleasant, and as I assume a decent amount of time has passed between you going all kitchen warrior on me and now, I shall be on my way in no time. That is…”

He spun around, finally getting his first good look at the skillet wielding maniac who’s home he’d inadvertently invaded. As he did, the rest of the sentence died in an instant.

When one pictures the kind of person to isolate themselves from society in such a manner as a doorless tower in the forest, the image would most likely be of a scruffy old hermit who looked closer to a hobbit than anything else. Instead, he was greeted with a young woman, great figure, long blonde hair, light eyes that held both wonder and excitement, and yet, no anger or fear. Interesting.

“That is, what?” She asked, not hesitating to make direct eye contact, and he smiled brightly in return.

“That is unless you desire some accompaniment, my dear.”

People had all sorts of reactions to Lucifer’s charms. Lust, embarrassment, infatuation. But he had to admit, hers was a new one. An eye roll.

“Yeah, sure. I absolutely want to befriend a guy who’s either running from someone or lying.”

“My my, look who’s playing detective! And I don’t lie, by the way.”

“Sure, plenty of reasons to believe that.”

And then the staring contest commenced, each sizing the other up. Lucifer could say for certain he liked what he saw, and it appeared the woman did as well, as she slowly lowered the pan, though it remained firmly in her grasp.

“Where are my manners? The name’s Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar. And what might yours be, darling?” He added an eyebrow waggle for good measure.

Blondie frowned, opened her mouth to reply, and was promptly cut off by a shout from elsewhere in the tower.

“Chloe! I’m home!”

And now she looked somewhat frightened.

Before he could blink her hands were on him, gently but firmly pushing him towards a closet on the far side of the room.

“Shit, you can’t be here, he can’t see you! Just.. just stay here and be quiet, alright?”

The door slammed shut, but he could tell she remained just outside of it. Normally these were the exact kind of instructions Lucifer would ignore, but that voice, something about it had seemed familiar in the worst of ways.

There was a creak, a door opening perhaps? And with the voice closer now Lucifer felt his blood run cold.

“Hey Chlo. I brought home some of your favorite berries, I thought we could make a special pie for your birthday tomorrow.”

Marcus Pierce. The bastard who framed him.

But if Pierce was here, then that meant..

“Oh Father, that’s great, really, thank you.”

She, Chloe, sounded disappointed, polite in a way that made the interaction just feel off. And Lucifer knew exactly why.

The woman that had slammed him nearly in the face with a frying pan was none other than Chloe Decker. Lost Princess. Miracle.

And he had no idea what to do about that.


	3. A Closet Full of Opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author is not dead, and would like to sincerely apologize for the few months delay. Dang does time move fast.

From the look on her Father’s face, Chloe guessed that she hadn’t entirely managed to keep the disappointment from her voice. Not that pie wasn’t nice and all, but she was currently hiding a full grown man in her closet, one that, though he had not-so-subtly hinted at lewd thoughts, had yet to outright attack her, and even seemed to be heeding to her directions of remaining silent and out of sight.

That was not what her Father had told her of men.

His sigh brought her back to their conversation. “I know pie isn’t what you were hoping for, but it’s for the best, Chloe. Trust me, the world is cold and dark and cruel, and you are meant for better things than what it has to offer.”

The same smile she’d been forcing at the subject for years graced her face. “I know, Father. The berries are a lovely gift.”

“I’ll go get started on the pie, then. Come down if you feel like.”

As soon as he was gone, Chloe released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The conversation didn’t go exactly as she hoped, she’d been pretty sure she could nudge it into more of a conversation than an outright refusal, but considering the circumstances, it was probably for the best.

She gave it a few more seconds, until she heard the first set of pots and pans banging in the kitchen, then spun around and eased open the closet doors.

The man - Lucifer, apparently, and what kind of name was that? - was exactly where she’d wedged him, a look between awe and horror shining in his eyes, and Chloe had to say she was impressed. From their brief interaction, he seemed the type to like to hear his own voice, and she doubted he was running from people and climbing towers because he enjoyed playing by the rules.

But he had listened to her, respected her wishes. Interesting.

More importantly, though, he hadn’t just disappeared. Not that she truly expected him to, but it wouldn’t have been the strangest dream she’d ever had. One of the more attractive ones, perhaps, but definitely not strange.

And his presence may have just given her an idea.

“Sorry about that, but Father doesn’t really like guests. You can come out now. No promises you won’t have to go back, though.”

He stepped out, still looking a bit spooked, and stood a bit further away from her than previous.

“I assure you, it is fine.” And huh, the flirting tone was gone, too. She didn’t think he could lose that.

Then his face darkened ever so slightly, and it was Chloe’s turn to edge away a little.

“That man is your Father, then? Why are you so disappointed?”

Ah, he’d caught that then. “Well I wouldn’t just call anyone father now would I? And it’s nothing, really. There’s just something I’d love to go see, but he doesn’t think it would be a good idea.”

“And what would that be?”

She bit her lip. There was a lot of uncertainty, and this could definitely be the worst decision of her life, but how likely was it that she’d ever get this opportunity again? It was a now or never kind of deal, and Chloe had had enough of never.

“The stars.” She finally said, smile blossoming as she pulled aside a tapestry blocking a piece of the wall. Behind it lay her mural of said stars, her stars, painted two years previously. She hated keeping it hidden, but doubted her Father would be too fond of it. “They only show up once every year, on my birthday. I know their something special, I’ve cataloged all the stars I can see and no others behave this way. I just. . I want to see them, up close, you know? I’d hoped that now that I was older Father would let me go.”

The last bit trailed off to a whisper, her excitement dying out fractionally before resolve set in. Lucifer still looked at her in that odd way that implied he thought she might spontaneously combust at any moment, but he’d yet to flee, and she’s pretty sure she heard him mutter something about a detective again during her rant. This was her chance.

She started again. “But now, it might not matter what Father says. After all, there’s someone else, whom I’ve graciously allowed to hideout in my closet and utterly invade my personal space, who could show me.”

The look of horror and awe returned, and he stared at her wide eyed for one, two minutes, and with each passing second she became more and more certain she’d made an error, and that he would deny her request and swan dive back out the window or something.

But neither of those things happened, of course. He seemed to compose himself, making some kind of vital internal decision, because he said one word that would change her life forever.

“Okay.”


End file.
